by Amos Cassidy
“I’m sorry?”
She sighed. “All work and no play and all that.”
His brow creased in a frown. He was certainly a keeper.
“What I’m saying is it’s great that you work so hard but you need to take a break, chill with friends and unwind. It is a Friday night after all.”
His brow cleared and he smiled at her in a way, which sent tingles down to her toes. “I appreciate what you’re saying. I just haven’t really had the time to make many friends.” He indicated the books on the table. “There’s too much to do.”
“Well in that case you’re coming to mine tomorrow evening. We’re having a small get together– a buffet and drinks, nothing wild,” she explained. “Here, let me jot down the address.” She reached for his pen, plucking it from his fingers and scribbled Flo’s address on a piece of paper. “Or, you could come down with Faye. Whatever works for you?”
He sat staring at the piece of paper for a long moment. He was probably nervous about meeting a load of strangers.
“I promise the people are great and I personally guarantee you’ll have a good time.” She shot him her most winning smile.
He nodded slowly, tucking the piece of paper into the front pocket of his jeans. “In that case, consider it a date.”
Rose flushed and, a moment after saying the words, twin spots of colour appeared on Ossian’s cheeks also. “I mean, I will be there.”
“Okay, cool.” Picking up the bottle of wine she left him to it.
Time to see if Catherine was going to give her the excuse she needed to deliver a knuckle sandwich.
13.
COCKTAILS
Rose’s feet were killing her. She glanced over at Faye who was standing to the far right of her and to one side of the bar with Harold. Her eyes travelled down to Faye’s three-inch platforms then back up to Faye’s face. The woman looked perfectly at ease, not a wince of pain in sight. As she watched, Faye tilted her head offering her lips to Harold for a lingering lip lock. Rose had to admit they looked good together– Faye so petite and so fragile in appearance and Harold with his Conanian proportions folding himself around his prize protectively.
Rose experienced a pang of jealousy towards her friend– for what she had found with Harold. She felt a yearning for that feeling, the feeling that you get when someone you want wants you back just as much. That ultimate connection and everything that comes with it– the butterflies and loss of appetite, that dreamy state where you feel like you’re walking on a cloud. Shit, who was she kidding? She was just sexually frustrated and the only part of a relationship she missed at the moment was the regular supply of sex. If only she was someone who could do the one-night stand thing she’d be on to a winner, but she couldn’t quite placate her conscience enough to take the leap. Sex, to her, was too much of an intimate thing to just throw about. But fair play for those who could, because it was obvious they were getting more action than she was.
“Earth to Rose.”
“Huh?” Rose snapped out of her reverie to find Thistle regarding her with an amused expression.
“What were you thinking of?” Thistle asked. “Whatever it is it must be tasty because you looked like you were about to drool.” Her gaze drifted along Rose’s line of vision and her eyebrows shot up when she clocked Harold. “Oh dear, please tell me you have a lazy eye.”
Rose snorted. “I was just watching those two, they seem happy.” She took a sip of her drink. “And then I got to thinking about sex”
“Mmmm,” Thistle said appreciatively, “my favourite topic.”
Rose laughed. “Well at least one of us is getting some. I’ll have to resign myself to basking in your afterglow.”
“Oh, honey, you can join me anytime if you like, I’m all for sharing.”
“As much as I appreciate your offer, babe, I really don’t think I’m ready to be that close to you, or any other woman for that matter.” She added just in case Thistle got offended.
Thistle merely shrugged. “If you change your mind…”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
They watched the dance floor, which was heaving, for a few moments both content in each other’s company.
Rose couldn’t admit that she understood Thistle’s attitude to sex and relationships in general but she was intrigued. How could you love someone and share them? It went against everything she knew about human nature. And then it hit her. Maybe Thistle could share because what she was sharing wasn’t really that important to her. Thistle had never been in love!
“You’ve never been in love have you?” Rose decided to forego the whole chitchat stage, which should lead up to the pretty personal question.
Thistle looked momentarily startled but quickly regained her composure. She shrugged, her lips turning down slightly at the corners. “Love is not for everyone and not everyone is made for love.”
“O-kay.” Rose decided to drop the subject. “You seen bitch face anywhere? I’m still itching to slap her in the gob.”
“Nope, I think she got the message though.” Thistle grinned.
Catherine had been strangely subdued after Rose’s threat and hadn’t uttered a word to either Rose or Thistle for the rest of the evening. Upon reaching The Whisper she had dissolved into the crowd.
“Stupid bitch, I really need to speak to Faye about her. I need assurance that she isn’t going to be a permanent fixture.” Rose tapped her glass with her index finger as she schemed. She knew she had no right to dictate what friends Faye had, but she would make it clear that she did not want to spend any more time in Catherine’s company. That, at least, was fair.
“You want to dance?” Thistle asked.
“Heck, why not? That’s what we’re here for!”
They made a beeline for the dance floor, plucking Faye from Harold’s arms en-route.
After she didn’t know how long, Rose started to curse herself for not inserting gel pads into her shoes. Her feet were killing her even more, but she was damned if she was going to admit defeat.
“I’m going to the loo!” she shouted over the music.
“You want us to come?” Faye asked continuing to grind to the beat.
Thistle was swaying, her head thrown back, her eyes closed.
“Nah, I’ll be back in a mo.”
She quickly slipped away before Faye changed her mind or Thistle came out of her dance-induced trance.
Harold joined Faye on the dance floor just as Rose was leaving and Thistle decided it was time to get another drink. Leaving the two lovebirds to it she headed to the bar. She had just taken a long swing of her red wine when she sensed Roman’s presence. She turned to greet him, giving him a peck on the lips. “Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?”
“Just a quick pit-stop. Thought I’d pop in and say hi and give you this.’ He planted a lingering kiss on her lips.
“Mmmm, nice.”
“How’s Vanessa?”
Thistle shrugged. “In mourning, she hasn’t left her flat.” If that was what love did to a person, Thistle was happy to steer clear.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“Sorry that you had to be the one to end it.”
Once again she shrugged. “That’s my job. I’m the executioner. I execute.” She sipped her wine seemingly unconcerned.
Roman’s eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded her. He hadn’t seen this aspect of her personality before, had always thought of her as quite soft and flighty. Oh, he knew that she was a vampire, that she was a predator just like him. But he had never seen that side. The small glimpse he had caught of it just now was disturbing. It was as if the mask she wore had slipped fractionally, allowing him to see the icy calculation beneath. He decided to change the subject. “So why are you all alone? Where’s Rose?”
Thistle smiled knowingly. “She went to the loo. You should see the outfit she’s wearing, it’s red hot, no, white hot.” She sensed the tiny flare of arousal, which was the unmistakable
rise in his body temperature, and the musky scent that accompanied it, and bit back a smile. He definitely had a hard-on for Rose.
Roman schooled his features to affect disinterest. They had an understanding and it had worked well until now– because now there was Rose. He wasn’t into analysing his feelings, he was more into his instincts, and his instincts told him to fuck her senseless. The chemistry between them would be explosive. He could feel it every time she was near. Her scent filled him with an almost unbearable need. Now Rose was friends with Thistle and that just made him uncomfortable.
Thistle watched the subtle play of emotions on his face.
“So you and Rose are getting pretty chummy, eh?” he asked.
She nodded.
“You think that’s a good idea?”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent. “Why? You worried I’ll get hungry and be tempted to take a bite?”
“No, no. Of course not…” He shook his head not knowing what else to say. Shit.
There was a moment of silence between them in which the funky music filled the void.
Thistle refused to help him further in his dilemma. Roman knew the score– he could fuck who he wanted. She didn’t care if he felt weird about trying it with Rose. That was his problem. There was no way she was going to allow his dick to dictate her friendships.
Rose found a shadowy corner to recuperate. She found that even though her body was no longer in motion her head was still spinning. She frowned, she hadn’t drunk that much had she? She squinted down at her wristwatch trying to make out the time. The watch face swam in and out of focus and she had to blink rapidly to clear her vision enough to make out that it read almost half past one. Maybe she had drunk too much. They’d been in the place since half past ten! Maybe it was time to call it a night.
“Hi.”
Rose jumped, startled by the male American voice coming from behind her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
It was the man from the Rainbow Rave…what was his name? Oh, yes, Brandon…something. “It’s okay, just daydreaming.” She replied.
Brandon nodded understandingly and Rose, recalling his proactive lip-lock with Raven, thought, that he probably did a lot of daydreaming too.
They stood this way for a few moments, the music vibrating around them and Rose noticed his eyes wandering over the crowd, almost as if he was combing it, searching for something or someone. Rose bit her lip as she realised just who Brandon was searching for. She tugged at his sleeve to get his attention. “He’s not here.”
“WH-what?” Brandon turned to look at her, dazed.
“Raven, he’s not coming tonight. I think he’s out of town.”
“Oh.” Brandon looked suddenly deflated.
Rose had enquired with Flo whether Roman or Raven would be coming and Flo had told her that Roman was working late and Raven may be out of town. So far neither man had turned up. She would have known.
“I’m pathetic aren’t I?” Brandon hung his head fiddling with the bottle of mineral water in his hands.
“Nah…yeah...” She nodded her head sadly. He needed someone to light a rocket up his arse. It was time to be blunt. “You hang around on the side-lines long enough you just might see him head off into the sunset with some other man. What you waiting for?”
Brandon looked aghast at the thought.
“Sorry, hun, but it’s the truth. If you want something that bad you’ve got to put yourself out there and take a chance. And if it works out then great and if it goes tits up then at least you tried.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” Tipping back his head he drained the last of the water in the bottle. “Thanks.” He disappeared into the crowd, his stride sure and purposeful.
The poor man, she thought. Now that was something she never wanted to experience– unrequited love. On that note she allowed herself to admit that she was pooped. Time to say her goodbyes because from the looks of things the only person Faye would be leaving with tonight would be Harold. Ah, young lust.
Roman caught Rose’s scent and turned abruptly, his eyes scanning the crowd until he found her. She was standing on the edge of the dance floor leaning into Faye as she shouted into her ear.
“I think she’s leaving.” Thistle had spotted her too. “Babe, I’m gonna head off too.” She smiled up at Roman. “I’ll keep Rose company at the bus stop.”
“Yeah, I need to get back on patrol anyway, although it’s dead out there. The recent activity seems like a particularly bad dream.” He glanced in Harold’s direction. “Jammy bastard came back into the fold after pissing off the alpha and managed to get the evening off.”
Rose was already at the door.
Thistle stood on tiptoe offering her lips for a kiss. “See you soon, babe,” she soothed before heading to catch up with Rose.
Rose turned at the sound of her name being called to see Thistle walking toward her.
“You want company at the bus stop?” she asked.
“Great.” Rose smiled. Thistle caught up with her and threaded her arm through hers. Rose wasn’t really an arm in arm kind of girl, but she found that with Thistle she really didn’t mind. Plus it was chilly.
“The bus stop is just up ahead.” Thistle pointed with her free arm.
They picked up the pace.
“Shit!” Rose stumbled at the mouth of a dark alleyway. “These are my favourite shoes!” Her heel had got caught in a gap in the paving stones and come clean off.
Thistle looked appropriately upset on her behalf. “I know a good shoe smith not too far from here. I can give you the address-”
A sharp shriek cut off her words causing their heads to whip up in alarm.
“It came from there.” Thistle stared into the inky blackness.
A whimper reached their ears.
“Someone’s in trouble!” Rose was off and swallowed by the darkness before Thistle could react further.
Her gut clenched in primal fear. “ROSE! NO! WAIT!” She followed.
14.
LIGHT
Rose was suddenly surrounded by a thick, all-consuming blanket of darkness. It was almost viscous in its consistency, pressing against her, suffocating her. She found herself breathing heavily, the sound alarmingly loud in the eerily quiet alley. Dragging air in and out of her lungs suddenly required more effort than ever before. She clamped her lips together, breathing solely through her nose as she collected her thoughts. Okay, the lights must have blown…simultaneously. And what the hell was she doing down here anyway? She watched horror movies, she should know better.
“Rose, wait.” Thistle called behind her.
She couldn’t see the streets on either side of the alley. There was nothing but a black void. Her heart seemed to skip a beat as her brain recognised what her body had been trying to tell her– this was no ordinary darkness. This was an absence of light so complete that Rose struggled to make out the hand in front of her face, let alone Thistle whose outline was barely visible. The moon, which had been out when they had left The Whisper, seemed to have been extinguished. She was sobering up quickly, her unease making her more alert.
“Let’s turn around and leave,” Thistle said, taking her by the arm.
“But someone’s down here,” Rose protested. “You heard it.”
“Maybe it was a cat.”
“That was not a cat.”
“I don’t like this.” Thistle’s grip tightened on Rose.
Rose’s nostrils flared, picking up a smell, the back of her neck tingled, her gut danced in loops. An acrid, sickly sweet stench laced with the tones of rotten fish and something she couldn’t quite place. Rose gagged. “That smell…someone needs to empty their bins.”
Thistle decided to take charge. “We’re going.” Her usual breathy voice was cold as iron.
“But…”
Thistle tugged her hard, dragging her backwards. And then they stopped. There was a sound, a strange shuffling and a click, c
lick, noise.
“What was that?” Rose whispered.
Thistle said nothing, just resumed her tugging on Rose.
“Wait.” Rose tugged back. “Just wait.” She tried to shake off Thistle’s grasp, mildly surprised at the woman’s strength. “I just want to listen.”
“No.” Thistle said.
“Why? What if someone’s hurt or something?”
“No one’s hurt. We have to leave.”
“Just listen…” She took a step forward. Glass crunched under her feet and she almost fell, her balance uneven from her broken heel. Thistle’s hand whipped out, holding her steady. “Shit!”
Something hissed in response. The stench thickened.
Thistle yanked her hard. “We’re done here.”
As they began to back away, Thistle’s grip tight on her arm, her breath caught in her throat. There was something here with them, she knew it just as if it had shaken her hand and introduced itself. She knew it like she knew the sky was blue. The realization was instant and something she wished had come to her beforehand. Thistle was right, they shouldn’t be here. Her senses were sparking, roaring at her. That smell was awful, and there was something else that was in the mix, a sickening scent of…evil. If evil had a smell that was what it was, the embodiment of badness and terror.
Thistle stopped.
“What?” Rose asked, panic poised in her chest, ready to strike.
“I can’t go any further.”
“What?”
“There’s no way out.”
Rose felt her control snapping. “WHAT?”
“We’re trapped.”
“How can we be trapped? We’re in an alley. We got in, we get out the same way.”
Rose move forward and stopped. She didn’t control the halt, her body made that decision of its own resolve. She reached out a hand and felt…nothing. Not even air. Not even empty space. It was as if the world beyond had simply vanished. She pulled back her hand horrified. Her body was shaking, her mind trying to categorise what she was feeling. There was nothing to categorise. Her mind screamed in confusion and fear. Her voice shook when she spoke. “Thistle…”
